Omega
by masquradeXD
Summary: Teen werewolf André Marquis moves from his home of Inglewood to Beacon Hills after a traumatic experience back home, in the hopes of escaping the supernatural, not realizing the grave mistake he made. Meanwhile, recent wolf killings alert the pack as a the product of a former enemy begins to rise. Set after Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf**

The crumple of paper was heard as 17 year old André Marquis moved his class schedule to the drivers seat of his black 1970 Dodge Challenger, parked in the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School. He took a deep breath as he looked around from the safety of inside his car. It was mostly different from his home back in Inglewood, miles away from Beacon Hills.

It was slightly strange, a kid would switch schools in the middle of the school year during their last year in high school. But this wasn't an ordinary situation as well, no. Of course, living in a bad neighborhood, could be the perfect cover up that André used in a plea to let his mother let him leave school and move with his father to Beacon Hills.

The truth was far from. No.. André had felt a... Connection, an urge to come here, maybe since a year ago, and current situations that had just occurred weeks ago, that left André exhausted and traumatized mentally, had made the boy leave his school abruptly. It was quite a disappointment, he had been the star and captain of the his former high schools team, he was fairly popular among his peers, and he was well liked in the neighborhood. But there was something in his life no one knew, something that had begun when he was fourteen.

André Marquis was a werewolf, not just a werewolf but an Omega. Only recently became one, as he'd been a Beta for the last three years. He felt almost sick, and weak.

They boy had just lost his pack, a month ago to be exact. Now it was the first day of the second semester. He took a deep breath, and opened up the door to his car, stepping out. Beacon Hills was considerably colder than Inglewood. The boy stood at 6'1, a naturally gifted Point Guard whenever he played. His skin was dark, not too dark, the color of chocolate milk. His hair was nappy, almost felt like wool, stood at a short flat top. He wore a blue T-Shirt, a cross necklace, and some jeans.

The chill made him reach back into the car and pulling out a grey hoodie, looking around at all the kids entering the school, conversing with their friends in groups, pairs, gossiping and politicking.

Slinging his brown backpack over his shoulder, he walked up the steps of Beacon Hills, as he immediately stopped in his tracks.

 _No fuckin' way._

Immediate dread came over him as a couple scents came to him. Three werewolves... And something else. He maintained a calm composure, as he continued to walk inside the school, but he knew he was walking into something not completely normal, slightly vexed at the thought that he had left his home in order to leave behind a supernatural world, but he had stepped into another shit, metaphorically speaking.

All those scents, they were coming from the same place, he balled his fists into his hand. He continued walking, putting his ear buds in as he continued to walk. As he walked down the halls, though, he felt the scent growing stronger and stronger until he looked up. Just down the hall, by the stairs leading to the second floor, he saw a little group.

Four boys, three girls. One of the boys, black, lean, short hair on his head. He had no scent except a human one. The other human boy was also a lanky tallish teenager, around André's age, also human. Then the other two boys, both moderately shorter than André was. One was a latino boy with straight hair, a small confused expression on his face, as if he had also felt someone else's presence, he had the werewolf scent. The other boy with the scent looked considerably younger, like the black human boy, also on the short side, very pale.

The three females stood together, across from them. A very attractive redheaded girl (or strawberry blonde), a skinny latina girl, and a taller short haired girl. The last two expelled a supernatural scent, the latina was an obvious werewolf, and the other one seemed to be a sort of creature, not sure which one.

In his time in his older pack, André learned enough about the supernatural, and the different beasts, he couldn't tell WHAT she was. He could tell the werewolves all looked at him, he looked back.

Shit.

He was now worried, had he stepped in foreign territory? Was this like a gang? Did they want their turf empty of others? After a split second of returning their looks, he turned and walked into the classroom. The teacher was an Asian man, and motioned for André to take off his hood and his ear plugs. He did so, and then the teacher smiled. "André Marquis, I take it?"

André nodded.

"My name is Mr. Yukimura, can I say, I've been following California High School basketball, I am a huge fan of what you've done in Inglewood. I assume you'll be playing for Beacon Hills?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." He nodded, giving a little grin, trying to ignore the scents invading his nostrils. "Coach got in touch once he knew I was comin' here."

"Lets see if we you can get us a title." He chuckled.

"It's a team effort." Responded the teenager nervously.

The bell rang, and teenagers started to enter, André turned to go sit, but Yukimura put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Wait here, so you can introduce yourself to the class."

Made sense, André nodded. He waited for the class to fill up, one by one. But his heart nearly stopped when four of the seven people he saw earlier all enter at the same time. The redhead, the werecreature, the older latino werewolf, and the lanky human. Both were-species looked at André as they took their respective seats.

"Good morning, class." Yukimura addressed them. "We have a new student joining us today, welcome André Marquis." He tells them, but just as he expected, no real reaction, except the supernatural ones looking at him more intently, he may have gotten a flirty look from one of the other classmates, but that was about it. "If you would like to take a seat next to Malia, we can get this class started."

André nodded and took his seat next to the tall short haired girl, who immediately shot him a distrustful look. He shrugged it off, and looked at his notebook as he listened to the teacher begin class. "André, you know all about the causes and consequences of the second world war, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir." He said again.  
"Good, you're on track then." The teacher smiles. "Now we're going into the Cold War-" He began to speak and give his class lecture. André turned to his notebook, taking his pen, dotting down some notes as the teacher spoke.

"You're a wolf." He heard the slight whisper coming from the girl's mouth, amplified by his enhanced hearing, he looked between her and the other wolf and nodded.

"If one of you is the alpha," André whispered under his breath. "I'm not here to step on turf, let me go about my time."

There was a slight ironic chuckle from the girl. André was usually a very responsive and loud mouthed guy, if he felt disrespected he would respond, but for the take of not wanting to cause any problems his first class he didn't respond to that clearly disrespectful laugh.

"We'll talk later.." The male werewolf said. André didn't like the sound of that, that was the words a person heard before the leader of a gang clipped them in a dark alley.

It made André uneasy, but he wouldn't go down without a fight.

* * *

The bell rang, the first few classes had gone through relatively nice, he'd shared a couple of classes with the lanky human and the male werewolf, and there was tension there, but André wasn't afraid.

He rolled up his hoodie sleeves, and walked over to the cafeteria. Entering, seeing all the students around. He could which ones were the basketball players, and since he was due to join their team, he thought of introducing himself, but he kept quiet. He just wanted to go unnoticed for the rest of day, since his plan to get away from the Supernatural had completely backfired on him.

He got a tray of food, which thankfully didn't seem so bad. Some mashed potatoes, an Italian sub, an orange, and then a tiny bottle of water. He tuned to look around, and because he wanted to keep unnoticed, he went to a table, and sat down by himself.

He grabbed his iPhone before he began eating, seeing a few messages and snaps from his friends back home. Various 'Missing you' or 'First day in school without, Dré' which made him smile a bit. He then put his phone back in his hoodie pocket and turned to his food, clapping both hands together, closing his eyes for a little grace, and then opening them back up.

As he did, he saw a familiar group of people entering the lunch room, the Older Latino werewolf and his crew. André dug his nail into the table. He wasn't going anywhere, plus they wouldn't attack him in the middle of a lunch room.

They all neared his table. The lanky human and the redhead sat in front of him with suspicious looking expressions. Then the smaller latina female werewolf sat next to him, her body facing him, and so did the short haired were-creature girl. The younger werewolf and the lanky black kid stood to the side. The Older werewolf, obviously the Alpha of the group stood in front of him, behind the lanky white kid and the redhead.

"My welcoming committee?" He asked, taking a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

"Who the hell are you, wolf?" The lanky human said, causing André to look up, and raise an eyebrow.

"The name is André, and I dare you to speak like that to me one more time." Said André, okay cool, he was being sorta brave.

"Stiles, behave." The Latino said, putting his hand on the lanky kid's shoulder, okay, so Stiles, that was one name

"Can I help you?" Dré asked.

The latino looked around and leaned in. "Who are you?" His voice was less aggressive, he seemed like he really wanted to know.

"I told you, my name is André..."

"Scott, it's really likely he's just here because of the Nemeton." The redhead said. Okay, latino boy was Scott. Stiles and Scott, so far so good.

"The Neme- what now?"

"It's a tree. Druids used to use it- You know about Druids, right?" Stiles asked, to which André responded with a nod. "Well, basically, it attracts supernatural beings to it's area, which is up on the Reserve here in Beacon Hills."

A variety of curse words blew off in André's head as Stiles said that. "I came here to get away from that." He groaned, which was met with another laugh from the were-creature next to him, this time he wasn't the only one to give her a look.

She quit chuckling and looked around. "What? Everyone knows Beacon Hills is the place you run away from." She said. "Fine then, sorry."

"Why did you come here? You an Omega?" Asked Scott.  
André looked at the guy. "Why do you need to know? I told you, I'm not gonna be a problem. I just wanna play basketball, that's it."

"Seeing as we really aren't in a position to trust someone's words." Stiles shrugged. "Look at it from our perspective, a werewolf comes to town, someone we know nothing about, after we were betrayed a few hundred times."

"I just told you, I want nothing to do with y'all." Repeated André. "Yes, I'm an Omega."

"What happened to your Alpha?" Asked the short haired were-creature chick.

"He's dead."

They stayed silent, and the others looked at their obvious leader.

Scott looked at André. "Did you k-"

André cut him off by revealing his gold wolf eyes, then letting them go back to his human eyes. "That answer your question?"  
"What happened to your Alpha?" Scott asked.  
"Dead." André responded. "And the other two Beta's in my pack."

They looked at him, he looked back. "Look, who are you guys, huh? Since y'all are so interested in me."

"I'm Scott." The latino said. "This is Stiles." He motioned towards the lanky kid. Two names André already knew.  
"Lydia." The red head said, André nodded at her.

"The two next to you are Malia," Scott said, mentioning to the disrespectful girl. "And that's Hayden." The other girl, the latina-ish one.  
"Those two are Liam and Mason." Motioned at the younger wolf and the lanky black kid.

"Great. Interesting introduction, but if you guys'll excuse me." Gets up. "I need to talk to the coach before lunch ends." And promptly exited.

The group stood silent, before Stiles took the orange off André's tray. "Well, now I'm taking his orange, for being a dick."

* * *

 **Authors note: The story WILL be focusing on the others as much as the OC. Also, to give a face to the OC, I prefer Trevor Jackson.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf**

"So.. He's an Omega." Stiles said, leaning against his Jeep. "And his pack was whipped out."

The pack, minus Liam, Hayden, and Mason stood around the Jeep. The human looked at his best friend, "Do you think it was hunters?"

"I couldn't get any type of read off him, but he obviously doesn't want to talk about it." Scott responded.  
"Well, that's what happens when you see people close to you wiped out." Said Lydia, as if it was obvious.  
"So we're just taking that to heart then?" Malia asked. "How do we know he didn't kill his pack?"

"His eyes were gold, Malia. If anything, he hasn't taken an innocent life." Scott unfolded his arms and looked at them.  
"You know who else had gold eyes?" The Coyote quickly shot back. "Theo. But we know he's killed innocent."  
Stiles put a hand to pause the conversation. "I did have that one theory..."

The others looked at Stiles who simply shrugged. "Is it more about how you feel after the kill?" He asked. "After Theo killed the Wendigo his eye color didn't change." He began to explain. "Theo took it as self defense, his eyes didn't change."

"Alright," Lydia spoke up. "What if we remember Theo wasn't actually a werewolf but a Chimera, meaning his eyes stayed like that."

"That's-" Stiles raised an eyebrow, almost as if he forgot. "Damn it."

"What do we do, Scott?" Malia asked. "I don't trust him."

"Neither do I, besides, he said wants nothing to do with us. Nothing we can do." Shrugged Scott. "As long as he keeps a low radar and stays out of trouble we'll let him stay out of this crazy."  
"What about the full moon?" Stiles chimed in.  
Scott was silent for a moment. "We'll get to that when we get to it."

* * *

The next day, Scott woke up from his slumber at the sound of his alarm clock going off. Ever since he became a werewolf, the effects the alarm put him under were far worse than it could be for any person. His super hearing did not bode well with the screeching of the machine next to him. He stood up groggily, and stretched out his arms.

Suddenly, he turned his head to see his phone vibrating. The wallpaper had been a photo of him and Kira.

Stiles.

He grabbed the phone and answered the call. "Yeah?" He asked.

"Uhh... Scott... You need to get here." He heard Stiles' voice. There was a tone of some worry in his voice.  
"What happened?" Scott was still quite sleepy, and said it very softly.  
"You really need to get here." Responded Stiles after a momentary pause.  
"Where?"  
"Reserve."

So Scott did as he was told, he got dressed, black T-Shirt, pair of jeans, grabbed a slice of toast, and got on his bike until he got to the preserve.

Using the higher sense of smell he had as werewolf allowed him to find his friends. But he didn't just find his friends, as he got closer and closer, he could see the all too familiar yellow tape around trees as he saw Stiles on the viewers side of the tape, which was weird for him as he always seemed to cross those boundaries. Stiles was next to a bunch of photographers taking photos at what most likely was a crime scene.

"What happened?" Asked Scott as he stepped next to his best friend.  
"Toby Stormhall, sixteen years old, here visiting family." Stiles pointed closer to the scene. There, when Scott took a good look he almost stumbled back. He'd seen plenty of death, innocent fellow classmates, people close to him like Boyd and Erica, and his first love Allison. But he never got used to it, especially when the body of the short haired blonde boy in front of him was clawed across the face, and then another position going towards the left, and a claw around his head, and vertically down their chest. Completely mutilated.

"What the hell happened?" Scott asked, eyes widened. He didn't recognize the boy, but it wasn't a pleasant sight, especially when you could guess what could have killed them.

"Runner found him here. He's been here all night." Stiles said, arms crossed, obviously feeling bad about this as well. "Do you think it was a wolf?"  
"It obviously was." Scott said, as he began to think about various theories to this.  
"Then we know who it was." Said Stiles as if this were obvious, as his father walked towards them.  
"Do I wanna know?" Sheriff John Stilinski asked his son and the boy's best friend.  
"We think it was a werewolf." Stiles said before Scott could say anything. The Sheriff's eyes immediately widened and looked slightly shocked, but at the same time not surprised.  
"Wa- Wait... A werewolf? After that whole fiasco a month ago I thought the last werewolves left were Scott and his betas." He rubbed his temples. "What? Is Derek back? Did he bite three idiots again?"  
"Well..." Scott began. "A new kid came in yesterday. Although, he promised he was just going to stay out of things. He was telling the truth, I heard."  
"Yeah, well things sometimes have a way of changing when you're a frickin' werewolf at night." Shrugged Stiles.

Sheriff looked between the two boys and put his hands up. "I 'll figure out how to lead the investigation, you need to question this kid or do whatever you need to do."  
The two boys nodded, and with that, the sheriff left to walk back towards the crime scene.

* * *

The two walked into the basketball gym after a long day of classes, which had included keeping a close eye on André. They hadn't confronted him because it hadn't just felt like the right moment. People around, this could very quickly turn into a fight. The rest of the pack knew what was going on, and kept an eye on him.

They sat on the bleachers, watching the basketball team play, running up and down the court. "I looked up his name." Stiles explained as they looked over. "His name shows up on the list twice for best California High school point guard. Also runner up in a regional boxing tournament."  
The two boys watched André play, invested in seeing how swiftly he seemed to play, in the play they were currently watching, André faked to the side, and reversed on the floor, running towards the hoop and dunking the ball down on the rim.

"Woah." Scott raised an eyebrow, impressed.  
"Yep." Stiles nodded, as if this were to have proved a sort of deduction.  
"What're you up to?" The familiar voice of Lydia Martin rung to their ears as they saw the redhead girl walking toward them. "Stalking the new kid?"  
"Stalking the potential murderer." Corrected Stiles.  
"So how are you gonna go about this?" Asked Lydia.  
"I have a plan." Silas said with a hand motion as if he was about to explain.

* * *

"Did you kill a sixteen year old boy?" Asked Silas, leaning against the locker room locker, staring at the taller basketball player/werewolf.  
"God, this was such a stupid plan." Muttered Scott as he stepped on the opposite side of André, crossing his arms, just in case the boy wanted to get physical.

André leaned from the locker and looked at the two before scoffing and shaking his head. "Y'all two are clowns, man" He said as he slipped on his shirt and closing his locker before looking at the two.  
"You didn't answer the question." Scott said, not really into this whole accusing a kid they just met, but it was also quite necessary.  
He raised an eyebrow, a look of disbelief on his face. "No I ain't kill nobody." He said in a tone as if this were supposed to be obvious.

"So how did we find a dead body that only looks a little bit like it was killed by a freakin' werewolf?" Asked Stiles.  
"Little man if you don't get outta my face." Responded André rather quickly. "What? Someone dies and you automatically assume it was the black kid, huh?"  
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, there we go, real mature pullin' the race card." Getting closer in André's face. "No, I assume it was the black kid because he's a goddamn werewolf."  
André put his hand over Stiles face and pushed him back. "I ain't kill no one."  
"Oh yeah, right!" Stiles said sarcastically. "I bet-"  
"Stiles stop!" Scott quickly intervened. "He's tellin' the truth." The true alpha said, motioning to his ears as if to remind his best friend of the super hearing. Stiles backed off, but Scott stepped up to the new boy. "That being said." He looked the boy straight in the eye. "Keep your hands off of Stiles." He warned.

André looked at Scott for a moment and smirked. "What about you, huh?" Lightly shoving him. "You might be suspectin' me, when your homie right here is just as much a wolf as I am."  
Scott did not back off. "I'm not a killer." He simply said to the new boy.

André simply looked at Scott for a few moments and then chuckled a little bit, an expression on his face as if he had just realized something. "No, you aren't. But you are something... Else." Chuckles. "I heard about it, I heard about a teenage kid had become the true alpha."  
Scott looked back at the boy.  
"Ah, your heart skipped a beat. Off guard?" André chuckled once more. "True Alpha, Scott McCall." He smirked.  
"How did you even-"  
"I didn't. You just confirmed it." The Inglewood Werewolf said. "Yesterday you didn't wanna show me your eyes when I showed you mine. I did think you'd probably killed someone and that's why you didn't want to show me. But then now you just said you didn't kill anyone, and still didn't show me your eyes, but didn't lie. But, y'know, I could've been wrong, but you didn't deny it."  
There was a silence but then Scott looked at André in the eye, revealing his true eyes. "And? You know I'm a true Alpha, you can't take that from me."  
This response was met with a laugh.  
"I don't want no Alpha status." He continued to laugh, then abruptly stopped. "I told you, I'm not trying to be part of any supernatural crap."  
"Fine." Scott said. "But this can't be a coincidence."  
"Why not? Y'all ain't got other Werewolves here?"  
"Not really. Not for months. Hale's skipped town, Satomi's pack relocated to Devenford. Everyone else is gone but us. And I don't think anyone would come here to kill some random."  
"I dunno what to tell ya, homie. But you ain't gon find no answers with-" He stopped himself before he turned back toward. "How'd the kid get killed?"  
"Slashed down his chest, in a weird direction. Like... A figure or something." Stiles told him. 

André stopped for a moment, as if Stiles had just told him the world was going to and. He took a couple steps back, as a shocking realization was presented to him. "Where is the body?" He asked.  
"The morgue." Stiles said, again, once again as if it was obvious. "I got a photo, though."  
"Show it to me." André stepped to him, getting closer.  
"What? Why?"  
"Kid, just show it to me."  
Stiles took out his phone and put a finger up. "It's Stiles." He made his name clear, then showed him a photo. André looked closer into the screen, and after a few seconds immediately began to look freaked out.  
"André, whats wrong?" Scott asked.

André began to back up, looking at no direction in particular, just a very freaked out face. "It.. It.." He couldn't say anything.  
"Spit it out, André." Stiles said."  
"It's... It's a werewolf. An Alpha... A nazi."

Scott's eyes then widened as well. "The doctors." As he realized, feeling so stupid, thinking that nothing like that could have survived. "How do you know about him?"

André looked up at Scott. "He murdered my pack."


End file.
